


better living through accessories

by 30toseoul



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Bondage, F/M, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, OT4, Object Penetration, Sex Toys, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 11:32:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1426927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/30toseoul/pseuds/30toseoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Teyla called you on the private team channel and told you to get home immediately, you hauled ass and didn't ask questions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	better living through accessories

Ronon hadn't really understood how "I have a present for you" had translated into Teyla asking _him_ to move a piece of furniture from halfway across the city, especially when it was so heavy that he'd needed two Marines to help him. Teyla had a weird sense of humor sometimes, though. He'd just shrugged and hauled it into the middle of their room, figured she might explain later.

.

He'd forgotten about it completely by the time he got home. But if he had been waiting for one, this would have been the best explanation of his life, no argument.

She already had John tied face-down on the table when he walked in the door.

"Holy fuck," Ronon said, involuntarily. Then he just stood there blinking, because... holy _fuck._

She was kneeling to adjust one of the ropes on John's ankles, and she looked up at Ronon, tiny smile curving her mouth and the corners of her eyes. That specific smile that meant it was going to be a long, long night and probably one that he'd be feeling for the next two days, and Ronon looked at her and thought blankly, _I love you_ , before she nodded toward the bed and he moved as fast as he could.

.

Rodney came skidding through the door less than four minutes after she put her radio down. Ronon didn't blame him. When Teyla called you on the private team channel and told you to get home immediately, you hauled ass and didn't ask questions. You didn't want to miss anything.

Of course Rodney looked like he had a few dozen questions, but none of them were making it out of his mouth, which was opening and closing soundlessly as he looked between Teyla and John.

Teyla didn't give him time to recover. "Take off your clothes and sit with Ronon," she told him firmly, and Rodney was scrambling to obey her even quicker than Ronon had.

.

Ronon had never seen John so still.

The table was exactly the right height for how Teyla had positioned him: bent over with his body stretched flat, his arms tied to the other corners. Ronon couldn't stop looking from the polished gray surface to John's skin to the gleaming knots of black rope around his wrists and ankles (where Teyla had gotten _that_ he didn't know, it was a million miles from standard issue cord) and he could hear Rodney swallowing audibly, leaned up against his chest.

They were both hard; hell, Ronon wanted badly to just haul Rodney down and rub off against the small of his back, but he wanted to watch the show more. He compromised by reaching his hands around to stroke Rodney's cock, light enough that he knew they could both last.

When Teyla slicked up her fingers and slid the first one into John's ass, he had to go even lighter.

.

John managed to keep still until she started with two fingers, and then he gave a shuddering gasp and tried to rock into her touch. He hardly had any leverage with his feet flat on the floor--Teyla had tied him perfectly, his body in a tight bent line--but Ronon could see him pushing up on the balls of his feet, straining for more contact.

Teyla stopped immediately. "John," she said, low, and swept her other hand gently over his hip, his thigh, rubbing in slow deep circles, her eyes focused on the back of his neck.

She didn't start again until he stopped moving, until he forced himself still and turned his cheek to rest against the table.

Ronon could see John's eyes shut tight, hear his low hitching moans when Teyla reached for more lube and kept working, opening him up so slowly.

.

By the time she got to three fingers Ronon was sweating, because he didn't know how John was standing it. Whenever he broke composure, every single time he started twisting or rocking into her hand, she stopped and waited. Her free hand sweeping down his leg, over his back and the curve of his ass, waiting patiently until he relaxed again.

Ronon thought he would've gotten worse each time himself, more desperate, but John looked like he was sinking further into relaxation whenever she made him be still again.

There was a pillow propped between his hips and the table. Just enough leverage to make a drop of sweat roll down the line of his back toward his shoulders, and somehow Ronon knew that Rodney kept staring at that, too.

It took him a while to realize that he'd stopped stroking Rodney, his hand curled loose and still around Rodney's cock, and that Rodney hadn't even complained.

.

When she used the first toy, John didn't try to move at all.

Ronon felt like he was going to explode, any second now. He knew exactly where she'd gotten that set of carvings (smooth and tapered and each one a different size) but he hadn't seen them since the erotic bazaar on M7Z-423. He figured she hadn't thought they were big enough or interesting enough, since M7Z-423 was also where she'd bought the larger strap-on with the leather harness, the one Rodney liked so much that Ronon was sometimes surprised he hadn't built a security cabinet to keep it safe.

They looked interesting enough now, though. John was moaning in a near-continuous stream of tiny hitching sounds, but he stayed perfectly still as Teyla worked the smallest one inside him, twisted and stroked, pumped it slowly back and forth.

.

John lasted until the fourth one before he couldn't handle any more.

Ronon was breathing hard, staring until his eyes almost _ached_ , because none of the carvings were that big but it was like he could feel them inside himself too, how each one opened John a little more. How Teyla kept moving at the same slow and even pace, fucking him and tracing her other hand around his hips, and he wasn't surprised when John finally said on a low desperate moan, "Please, Teyla, please, I can't, please let me," and she smiled, bending down to brush a kiss against his hip and murmur, "Now, John," before she twisted the carving fast, pumping into him and angling it precisely, and John's whole body went rigid, helplessly flexing against the ropes as he came.

.

Teyla didn't wait very long.

She circled the table far enough to lean down and kiss the back of John's neck, touching his sweat-damp hair with one hand, and then she looked up, her eyes dark and so calm, and said, "Ronon?"

He felt himself flush all the way to his toes. He didn't miss the look that Rodney gave him -- a confused, heated combination of _Oh god, I can't wait to watch this_ and _You bastard, I hate you for going first_ \-- but he couldn't focus on anything except getting his legs to work.

John was slick enough that he didn't need anything else. When he curled his fingers around John's hips and lined up and _shoved_ , breaching him fast and rough, Teyla's eyes burning into both of them, the sound John made was so beautiful that he wanted to hear it a thousand times.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in the Livejournal **oddball_sga** community on 15 February 2007.


End file.
